s had to face a loss of several
cents a bushel on each one of the five million they had sold. They had
not been able to cover one single sale, and the situation was back
again exactly as before his onslaught, the Unknown Bull in securer
control than ever before.

But Crookes had, at last, begun to suspect the true condition of
affairs, and now that the market was hourly growing tighter and more
congested, his suspicion was confirmed. Alone, locked in his private
office, he thought it out, and at last remarked to himself:

"Somebody has a great big line of wheat that is not on the market at
all. Somebody has got all the wheat there is. I guess I know his name.
I guess the visible supply of May wheat in the Chicago market is
cornered."

This was at a time when the price stood at a dollar and one cent.
Crookes--who from the first had managed and handled the operations of
his confederates--knew very well that if he now bought in all the wheat
his clique had sold short, the price would go up long before he could
complete the deal. He said nothing to the others, further than that
they should "hold on a little longer, in the hopes of a turn," but very
quietly he began to cover his own personal sales--his share of the five
million sold by his clique. Foreseeing the collapse of his scheme, he
got out of the market; at a loss, it was true, but still no more than
he could stand. If he "held on a little longer, in the hopes of a
turn," there was no telling how deep the Bull would gore him. This was
no time to think much about "obligations." It had got to be "every man
for himself" by now.

A few days after this Crookes sat in his office in the building in La
Salle Street that bore his name. It was about eleven o'clock in the
morning. His dry, small, beardless face creased a little at the corners
of the mouth as he heard the ticker chattering behind him. He knew how
the tape read. There had been another flurry on the Board that morning,
not half an hour since, and wheat was up again. In the last thirty-six
hours it had advanced three cents, and he knew very well that at that
very minute the "boys" on the floor were offering nine cents over the
dollar for the May option--and not getting it. The market was in a
tumult. He fancied he could almost hear the thunder of the Pit as it
swirled. All La Salle Street was listening and watching, all Chicago,
all the nation, all the world. Not a "factor" on the London 'Change who
did not tur